When We Were Young
by ebirdgirl96
Summary: Possible back story for some of the main characters- narrated by Merlin, Gwen, Arthur, and Morgana. I wrote this ages ago and am just now publishing it. If I proofread it now, I'll never get it on here so... Here it is. Let me know where there are problems! Reviews are greatly aprreciated:-) There are about 20 short chapters which should all be up within a week. Merlin forever!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Merlin  
I'm nobody special. I'm a perfectly normal person who lives in a small, unimportant village on the edge of a small kingdom. I'm not unique, different, or extraordinary in any way, shape, or form. I'm also lying to you.  
My name is Merlin. As I said, I live in a small village called Ealdor. I live with my mother, Hunith, in a small, ordinary house. I'm skinny, clumsy and tall and the result is unimpressive. To the other lads in Ealdor, I'm weak. In reality, I'm more powerful than them all combined. But no one can ever know.  
Magic is forbidden on pain of death. That is, anyone found guilty of having magic will be executed. I was born with magic, and I have kept it a secret for the most part. The only people who know are my mother and my friend, Will. But if anyone else were to discover me for what I really am, whatever that may be, well, it wouldn't be good to say the least.  
Ealdor is small. Besides me, there are few my age, that being fifteen. Will is a year younger than me, but he is muscular and works plowing the fields during the day. The farmers didn't want me for field work, so I take care of the sheep.  
I wake up before dawn every day without fail, grab my staff from beside the door and proceed to round up all the sheep in the village along with a scrawny old dog with no name. He's the ugliest thing you could ever not hope to see, so that's what I call him, Ugly.  
Ugly is a good friend though. He's there every morning to help me get all the sheep out to a field where they can graze and keeps me company when I go to fetch their water. He's old and stiff, and with so many old injuries, it's a miracle that he can still move. No one knows how old he is or he came from. He's a bit of a mystery, like me.  
With no one but each other for company all day, I've gotten to know Ugly quite well.  
He leans his head against my knee and I scratch it for him.  
"You like that don't you, Ugly."  
He pants eagerly.  
It's a simple life, but it's all I have ever known. Part of me wonders, "why am I like this?" Am I destined to be something great, or will I spend my whole life in a small village hiding in fear of what I am, and wondering what that could be? I have so many questions. Yet somehow I doubt that I'll find answers by watching sheep and talking to a dog who looks like the result of a fox and a rat who had one too many drinks.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Arthur  
"My God, she is gorgeous."  
"A little on the hairy side if you ask me, but I suppose there's something to be said for her eyes. On second thought, no, there isn't."  
"Not the goat, Arthur, the girl."  
"Oh, the girl. I suppose she looks moderately decent as well."  
"If you weren't the prince of Camelot..."  
I laugh as Leon looks mournfully at the girl from behind the barrel where we sit making rude jokes, most of them at Leon's expense.  
I am Prince Arthur, and one day I'll be king, but I hope that that day never comes. Why, you ask? I'll tell you, princes have more fun.  
"Oh Arthur," Leon sighs, "there's another. Now, no jokes, which is the better looking."  
I look at the two girls. The first is tall with waist-long ginger hair and a most admirable figure. The other is short, with long, brown hair.  
"The ginger," I reply. "Although I can only see their backs, most likely they have ugly faces and are destined to be old maids or low rate prostitutes."  
"Arthur!" Leon gasps, ever so easy to appall.  
"The truth is not always pleasant."  
The girls turn and share a laugh before going their separate ways. I was wrong. They are not ugly. The short girl especially makes me stare. She has a soft and gentle smile, and I can hear her laugh from across the street. Her eyes twinkle in the bright light.  
"Ugly, you said, Arthur. That's a lie if ever I heard one." Leon smiles proudly as if he accomplished some great thing.  
"I'll admit. They may be moderately attractive-"  
Leon snorts cutting me off.  
"- but they most likely are dumb as donkeys," I continue. "Girls cannot be both smart and pretty."  
"I don't believe it."  
"Care to find out?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Gwen  
I say goodbye to my friend Helen. It was nice to see her in the market. It can get lonely working for my father, a blacksmith, and I miss having company. Ever since my brother, Elyan, ran off, I've had to do his work. I spend my days in the heat of my father's forge helping him in whatever way I can and though I do my best, and try to be cheerful, it can be difficult nonetheless.  
As I walk down the road towards my home with supplies for my father, two young men come towards me. I move to the side of the road to avert them, but the first blocks my path.  
"Excuse me," I murmur looking downwards.  
The first young man chuckles. He is tall and muscularly built, with long strands of blond hair carelessly casting shadows on his face. He really is not much more than a boy, perhaps only several years older than I am. I have never seen him before. Behind him stands his friend who is taller, but he looks uncertainly at the ground.  
The first boy smiles arrogantly and says, "my friend an I have taken it upon ourselves to test the intelligence of the common plebeians of Camelot in areas of utmost importance, specifically-"  
"Please let me pass."  
"Ah ah ah, no interruptions. Now, question one, when notching a crossbow, does one first-"  
"Excuse me."  
I quickly dart around the two and run down the street. When I turn to see if they have followed me, I see them laugh at something the first boys says and walk the other direction. I sigh. My friend Helen would have played their game or offered some witty riposte and would be flirting shamelessly with the two by now. Me, all I can seem to do is stare at my feet.  
I'll tell you the truth. The only males I have ever spoken to coherently and without embarrassment are my father and brother. Around anyone else, I make a total fool of myself or come across as odd. I hurry into my father's forge and pray that I never have to see that horrible boy ever again.  
In case you were wondering, my name is Guinevere, but my father and friends call me Gwen. My mother is dead, my brother left home, and my father and I live in a small house outside the castle of Camelot. My father specializes in making weapons for the knights, guards, and noblemen of Camelot. I help him as much I can, work as a housekeeper as needed and as a seamstress. It is a simple life but it suits me just fine. Sometimes though, I dream silly dreams of being a fine lady in the castle, which is silly, but it entertains my thoughts. It can get boring sewing all day, and I would never admit it to my father, but sometimes I just want more. Of what you ask? I dont really know, myself. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Morgana  
I look at my reflection in the mirror as Margaret, my maid arranges my hair into an intricate creation of braids and flowers. Tonight there will be a feast in honor of Arthur's seventeenth birthday. He is two years younger than I am and is like a brother to me. I have no family of my own. Both of my parents are dead, and I have no siblings. For most children, my situation would be a dire one, but not in my case My father was a close friend of the king of Camelot, Uther Pendragon. When my father was killed in battle, Uther took me in as his own. I never really knew my father, Gorlois, so Uther is the father to me that I never had and Arthur the brother. Like myself, Arthur has no mother. We quarrel like siblings but I love him dearly. Of the two of us, I am the clearly the most exceptional, intelligent, and better looking. Take care to remember that.  
"You look lovely my lady," Margaret says smiling proudly at the work of art she has made of my hair.  
I look in the mirror. "Thank you, it looks lovely. Now Margaret, which dress of mine is your favorite?"  
"You look lovely is all of them, my lady."  
"Just tell me."  
"Well, the midnight blue one with the pearl neckline is quite lovely."  
"The plunging neckline," I say laughingly.  
"Well that too."  
"Then you shall wear it to the party tonight."  
"Oh no, my lady, I could never, it isn't proper for me to do so."  
"Who cares about what's proper, you'll look lovely," I prod.  
"That is very kind of you to offer, but I must respectfully decline. Now if you require no further assistance, I'll be on my way," Margaret says awkwardly.  
"I'm sorry, Margaret. I didn't mean to offend you."  
"No my lady, you have done nothing wrong. You are the lady and I am not. That's the way it's meant to be." Margaret curtsies and hurries out the door.  
I sigh. Now I've made her uncomfortable. It doesn't seem fair to me that things are the way they are. That Margaret is not as important as I am because of who she was born to? Why should I be the ward of the king and she be a lowly maid. If station was earned through merit, I would be the servant.  
Sometimes I can be like this, and wonder why life is unfair. Sometimes I want to change things, to make things better. But the problem, what would "better" be? I tell myself that things are the way they are and I should learn to accept that.  
As if that will ever happen. 


	5. Chapter 5

Seeing this story after writing it so long ago is... Aggh. It seems stupid. Oh well, here it is anyway. Please review, even if only to tell me this stinks, but if you have any constructive critique, that's cool too.

Chapter 5: Merlin

I eat my lunch of bread and sheep's cheese and spend the day trying to keep the dumb animals in the general vicinity of the field. After four entirely typical and therefore monotonous hours, I see my friend Will coming towards me.  
"Hey Merlin."  
"Will."  
"Having fun?"  
"Yeah, you wouldn't believe it. These sheep really know how to have a good time."  
"You don't say," he chuckles. "I brought you a piece of pie, thought you might like it."  
In thirty seconds, the pie is no more.  
Will laughs. "For one so skinny, you sure do eat a lot."  
We talk for a while about nothing in particular, and soon the sun begins to set behind the trees. Ugly begins to herd the sheep towards me. He could probably do this job on his own. Will and I begin to walk home and he tells me about a conversation he had with the girl he's smitten with.  
The next day, Ugly and I head out with the sheep. My mother has packed a huge lunch for me as well as a bone for Ugly. We head to a clearing in the forest which I don't often come too. They say it's cursed, but I always have liked it. There are strange symbols on some of the trees and rocks which bear the markings of the Druids. A strange and secretive people, some who possess magic. I've often wished I could meet them, people like me, who would understand my secret and teach me how to control my powers.  
This I do know, I am most powerful when I'm angry. My magic does things without my willing it to. Once, a man from another village stole a chicken of my mother's. I told him to put it back, but he laughed. I was only eight. I screamed at him and he flew backwards into the wall of a shed and lay unconscious. Luckily for me, no one saw, but my mother was terrified. She tells me never to use my magic lest I be discovered, but I still do. I can move things around by willing them to do so without the power of spells or runes or chants. I often wonder where my power came from, why I was born with it, and if perhaps it had anything to do with my father. That's another thing. I don't know who my father is, or was. My mother doesn't talk about him, and I've stopped asking. I know the subject is painful to her. I love my mother more than anything and would never do anything to hurt her. 


	6. Chapter 6

Yay, Arthur! You lovable little jerk :)

Chapter 6: Arthur  
It's been a long day. My father held a feast in honor of my seventeenth birthday, complete with jesters and minstrels. The highlight of the evening being when one jester tripped across a wire I had set earlier in the day which released a vat of jelly that covered him from head to toe. Unfortunately, everyone thought it was part of the act and laughed uproariously and I got no credit whatsoever for my cunning brilliance.  
It was a pleasant break from listening to Leon chastise me over "how rude and unchivalrous my behavior was towards the girl in the marketplace." He really is a stickler for the whole chivalry business. But then, I couldn't very well admit that I may be mildly attracted to her. And if anyone asks, you didn't hear that from me.  
As I walk to my chambers I hear a scream. I turn and run in the direction it comes from, my father's throne room. On the floor kneels a girl and she seems to be pleading with my father.  
"What is going on?" I ask.  
"This girl has been found guilty of practicing witchcraft and shall be executed in the morning," my father replies, his mouth set in a grim line.  
If there's one thing my father hates in all the world, it is magic.  
"I beg you sire, it is not what you think," the girl implores. "My sister is ill. I saw an old woman who said she could cure her. I gave her all my money and she hung a charm in the house. My sister is better now, whatever the woman did, I cannot speak for it, but I swear to you sire, I have done nothing so wicked as you believe. I have always been a loyal servant to your household." She breaks down weeping uncontrollably, her face streaming with tears of fear and desperation.  
Morgana's maid, Margaret, that's who the girl is. She can't be more than twenty, but I have seen some even younger than her be executed.  
My father stands. "If you truly were a loyal servant, you would not have been found with magical devices in your possession. My verdict is final." The king rises and exits the room without a glance back.  
Margaret crumples to the ground, her slim body heaving with sobs. I try to harden myself. What she did was wrong. Yet I can't help but think that if my father or Morgana were in mortal peril, that I would do whatever it might take to save them, regardless of the consequences. It is wrong to think that way? But then, what kind of person would I be if I wouldn't risk all for someone I love?  
I cannot bring myself to blame Margaret. I watch as the guards lead her towards the dungeons where she will spend her last night, and hope that I will never have to make the decision to end a life. 


	7. Chapter 7

Poor Morgana :( Chapter 7: Morgana  
I awake much later than usual. The curtains are still drawn closed the way Margaret left them last night. It is strange, Margaret should be here by now. I sit up and hear the drums that can mean only one thing, an execution. I peer through the curtains nearly blinded by the light, it must be noon. I hear Uther's voice and watch in horror as he pronounces my maid guilty of using magic and enchantments.  
But it can't be true! Not Margaret, surely. She is quiet and kind, and incredibly dull, but she would never break the law. I stand in shock. I prepare to rush out onto the balcony and defend her, I don't care about making a spectacle, surely she is innocent! But before I have the chance to act, I hear the dull thud of an axe against the executioner's block. I cannot look. I slide slowly to the ground and I cannot stop the tears.  
Sometime later, I hear a knock on the door. I ignore it, but it opens anyway. I do not look to see who it is. I feel a hand on my shoulder. Arthur?  
I sniffle. "What are you doing here?"  
"I wanted to see if you were okay."  
"If your definition of okay constitutes as a state of complete misery, despair, and self-abhoration, then yes, I am okay."  
"Look, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. If there was something I could have done, I would have. But she was guilty."  
"That makes no sense. Margaret has never used magic, I would have known." Wouldn't I?  
"I guess you can never really know about people."  
I sigh. I rub my eyes but they are dry. I have cried so many tears today, confusion, hurt, pain, and a feeling that somehow I've been betrayed. That someone I thought I knew well, I didn't really know at all. I never want to feel that feeling again, it hurts too much. I also feel something new, an anger towards Uther. Margaret was my maid, I should have protected her. Another feeling, guilt.  
Arthur puts his arm around my shoulders and I sink into him. He's not much in the way of comfort, but I'll take what I can get, even if it is my idiotic sort of brother.  
After a while, I break the silence. "Margaret was an orphan, but she had a young sister. I owe it to Margaret to see that she's looked after."  
Arthur surprises me by saying he will help me find her. Perhaps there is a more compassionate side to him that I was not aware of? No, that can't be it.  
Arthur leaves and I crawl back into bed. I have never felt such agonizing pain in my life. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Gwen  
My father meets me at the door.  
"Gwen, darling, I have news!"  
"Don't tell me you found the pie I made already."  
"Yes, and it was delicious, but that's not what I meant. While I delivered an order of horseshoes to the royal stables, I heard that there was a opening for a lady's maid in the palace."  
"Oh my-"  
"Think of it Gwen, you could have a good job in a fine place, it's no more than you deserve."  
"But who would help you, father?"  
"It is about time that I took an apprentice. It seems that Elyan has no plans of returning to us." a shadow crosses his face.  
"Are you certain that this is what you want?" I ask him.  
"I only want what is best for you, Gwen. I think you would like it there."  
Two hours later, I stand at the gates to the castle. I am dressed in my finest dress which I made myself, but it is still very plain. A guard asks me my business and points me in the direction of the overseer of the servants.  
She is a large woman with big, capable hands and a stern expression. She looks me over and I smile uncertainly.  
"And who might you be?"  
"I am Guinevere. I am here to seek a position as a lady's maid."  
"To the lady Morgana I presume."  
"Oh, I didn't realize-"  
"That is the position if you're still interested, that is."  
I try my best to appear confidant. But lady Morgana is the king's ward. Perhaps I am simply not worthy. I set my doubts aside and reply- "yes ma'am. It would be an honor to serve one of the king's own."  
"Indeed. May I see your credentials."  
I hand her a list of the people I have worked for, but I doubt that she would know any of them.  
She glances briefly at the parchment I hand her and puts it on a pile of similar ones.  
"You may go," she dismisses me.  
I smile, curtsy deeply and walk away after thanking her for her time. As I leave, I see the boy from the market. I duck behind a rack of armor and hope he doesn't notice me. As he passes, I hear him laugh, an unfortunately familiar sound. Once he is gone, I rush to the gate. Perhaps coming here wasn't such a good idea after all.  
Two days later, I receive an unexpected summons to the castle to discover that I of all people, have been accepted for the position of personal maidservant to Morgana, ward of the King. 


	9. Chapter 9

I haven't been spelling/grammar checking anything, so if you find a mistake, please let me know! :) Chapter 9: Merlin  
Days become weeks which become months and life stays the same. Occasionally, I practice at my magic when I am certain that no one can see. I can light a fire for my mother or clean up the house without barely moving a muscle. Magic comes to me easily, and with each passing year, seems more powerful.  
My sixteenth birthday comes and goes without spectacle. I can't help but wish that something exciting would happen.  
A week after my birthday, Ugly and I set out with the sheep. It is a beautiful morning. The sky is clear and the grass glistens with dew. After a while, I leave Ugly with the sheep and walk of to the forest to pick some berries for a snack. After a while, something startles me, Ugly barking frantically. I rush back to the clearing where the sheep run around hectically, then see the cause of their fright. A pack of at least four wild dogs mill around chasing the sheep with feral delight. I grab my staff and run to fend them off.  
Three of the dogs surround Ugly. They are a frightening sight, looking more like wolves than dogs. Ugly looks like a puppy compared to them. But I am too late. One dog grabs Ugly by the throat and shakes him violently. I can hear the pitiful yelp that escapes him as he is flung away. I yell and the dogs come towards me. I can see the blood pooling around Ugly and I am overcome with rage. A scream of rage escapes me and a powerful force sends the dogs flying. It flings them into the trees at the edge of the clearing with more power than I have ever witnessed. My body pulses with the powerful magic and makes me feel strong.  
I rush over to Ugly, but he is hardly breathing.  
"Come on Ugly," I plead. "You've got to be okay, please."  
He shudders. I rip the neckerchief around my neck off and press it against his tiny body in hopes of stopping the blood. There is so much blood. I wince. I pull Ugly into my arms and lift him. As I walk back to the village, the sheep fall into a solemn line behind me.  
My mother sees me coming.  
"Merlin, what has happened?"  
I tell her briefly and she hurries me into the house. She cleans Ugly's wounds skillfully, but her face is grave.  
"Merlin, he's lost so much blood, I don't think we can do anything for him but keep him warm and comfortable."  
I nod.  
"Why can't I do anything for him?" I ask. "What's the point of having power if I can't use it now when I need it?"  
"One can't always know all the answers," my mother says. "Sometimes you just have to believe that there is a reason."  
I stroke Ugly's boney little head tenderly. I don't want to lose my little friend, my companion for many years. But wishes rarely become reality. His breathing slows, then stops.  
I cannot help myself, and tears fall freely. Soon, my mother is crying too.  
"Someday, I will have the power to prevent death. I will be strong enough to save lives," I vow. A sob escapes me.  
I wrap Ugly in an old blanket, one that I had as a child, and I bury him beside my mother's garden and say goodbye to a friend. I hope never to do it again. 


	10. Chapter 10

I haven't been spelling/grammar checking anything, so if you find a mistake, please let me know! :) Chapter 9: Merlin  
Days become weeks which become months and life stays the same. Occasionally, I practice at my magic when I am certain that no one can see. I can light a fire for my mother or clean up the house without barely moving a muscle. Magic comes to me easily, and with each passing year, seems more powerful.  
My sixteenth birthday comes and goes without spectacle. I can't help but wish that something exciting would happen.  
A week after my birthday, Ugly and I set out with the sheep. It is a beautiful morning. The sky is clear and the grass glistens with dew. After a while, I leave Ugly with the sheep and walk of to the forest to pick some berries for a snack. After a while, something startles me, Ugly barking frantically. I rush back to the clearing where the sheep run around hectically, then see the cause of their fright. A pack of at least four wild dogs mill around chasing the sheep with feral delight. I grab my staff and run to fend them off.  
Three of the dogs surround Ugly. They are a frightening sight, looking more like wolves than dogs. Ugly looks like a puppy compared to them. But I am too late. One dog grabs Ugly by the throat and shakes him violently. I can hear the pitiful yelp that escapes him as he is flung away. I yell and the dogs come towards me. I can see the blood pooling around Ugly and I am overcome with rage. A scream of rage escapes me and a powerful force sends the dogs flying. It flings them into the trees at the edge of the clearing with more power than I have ever witnessed. My body pulses with the powerful magic and makes me feel strong.  
I rush over to Ugly, but he is hardly breathing.  
"Come on Ugly," I plead. "You've got to be okay, please."  
He shudders. I rip the neckerchief around my neck off and press it against his tiny body in hopes of stopping the blood. There is so much blood. I wince. I pull Ugly into my arms and lift him. As I walk back to the village, the sheep fall into a solemn line behind me.  
My mother sees me coming.  
"Merlin, what has happened?"  
I tell her briefly and she hurries me into the house. She cleans Ugly's wounds skillfully, but her face is grave.  
"Merlin, he's lost so much blood, I don't think we can do anything for him but keep him warm and comfortable."  
I nod.  
"Why can't I do anything for him?" I ask. "What's the point of having power if I can't use it now when I need it?"  
"One can't always know all the answers," my mother says. "Sometimes you just have to believe that there is a reason."  
I stroke Ugly's boney little head tenderly. I don't want to lose my little friend, my companion for many years. But wishes rarely become reality. His breathing slows, then stops.  
I cannot help myself, and tears fall freely. Soon, my mother is crying too.  
"Someday, I will have the power to prevent death. I will be strong enough to save lives," I vow. A sob escapes me.  
I wrap Ugly in an old blanket, one that I had as a child, and I bury him beside my mother's garden and say goodbye to a friend. I hope never to do it again. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Arthur  
Morgana and my father spend the rest of the meal in stiff silence. A servant comes to clear away our plate, which have hardly been touched. I hear a gasp and look for the source. I am shocked, something that does not often happen, I'll have you know. The servant who stands clearing the table is none other than the girl from the market who ran away when I spoke to her. She seems just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. Our eyes meet for a brief moment but she looks away and hurries from the room.  
"Excuse me, father," I say, "I believe I'll head to the stables."  
She walks quickly down the hall but I soon catch up with her.  
"I know you don't I?" Well, that was smooth.  
She looks down. "I am lady Morgana's new maid, sire."  
"And you're also the girl from the market."  
"Please accept my apologies, sire. Had I known who you were, I'm certain I would have shown more respect than I did." She curtsies and begins to leave.  
"Wait!"  
She stops hesitantly, with a worried expression on her face.  
"You haven't told me your name."  
She looks at me skeptically through thick lashes and replies, "I am Guinevere, your highness." 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Gwen  
I rush into the kitchen feeling awkward and foolish.  
Your highness? Prince Arthur, heir to the throne of Camelot, and I met him in the market? How unfortunate to know that he is so rude and arrogant. Call me wicked, but I cannot believe that being a royal entitles him to be disrespectful, not just to me but to anyone. If he is ever to be king, then I am inclined to believe that Camelot is doomed. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Merlin  
It has been many months since the incident with the wild dogs, and the seeds my mother planted over Ugly's grave have sprouted into beautiful flowers. I am alone for much of the day, and it gives me time to do what I cannot do when others are around. I practice my magic, moving things, lighting things on fire, anything I can seem to do easily. The sheep are terrified of me and my mother seems suspicious that I have disobeyed her orders to be careful. I secretly hope that I may finally be promoted to something other than being a shepherd. But luck is not something I seem to be blessed with.  
You may argue and think that I am lucky to possess magic. But am I? Or perhaps I am cursed. Cursed with a forbidden blessing, one I cannot always control, one I have no idea how to use. Tell me, is that really a blessing?  
But there is more. It must be wrong, but I long to leave Ealdor. In search of what you may wonder. I certainly don't know, but I doubt I will find it here. Answers. That's what I want. I want to know why I am the way I am and for what purpose I was born. There must be a purpose, I know it. It's like I have this innate feeling that I can't explain, and I'm ready to find some answers. 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Arthur  
My father has summoned me which can only mean two things. One, I've done something stupid and he's going to reprimand and punish me. Two, he's going to tell me to do something I won't want to do. There have been several exceptions to this, but they have been few and far between. Simply put, whatever he has to say to me, I will not like.  
"Arthur, so you finally decided to grace me with your presence." My father does not look happy. Did I mention I am late?  
My father frowns. "You smell like ale."

Brilliant. "I was going to entrust you with a serious task. But I must wonder if you are worthy." He looks at me disapprovingly. So my appearance may be slightly disheveled, and I may have had more drinks than was wise, but if my father wants something of me, well, let's just say I have waited for some time for a chance to prove myself.

"Whatever it is you desire, it would be my greatest pleasure to accomplish."

My father looks at me dubiously. I straighten and attempt to look sincere and sober. "Very well," he says slowly. "This matter I wish to discuss must not be undertaken lightly. Should you prove yourself a worthy son, and heir, I would be most pleased."

In other words, don't bungle it or I'll make your life living hell. Alright, I'll admit, I am being harsh. As a matter of fact, my father loves me very much, but lately, I have been a bit of a trial to him. Ever since the execution of Morgana's maid, I have wondered what I would have done if I were king. If there was a right decision, would I have made it? Not only that, but I worry about many things. Will I ever be ready to lead a nation, command an army, decide the fate of people and live with the consequences? All this philosophical thinking has addled my brain. There, that is my excuse for being a prat the last few months. Also, I will deny ever having said that.

"Arthur?" "Yes father." "I have received word that there is an encampment of Druids in the forests of Camelot. Obviously, this cannot be tolerated."

"I see."

No, not really. As far as I know, the Druids are a peaceful people. Strange, and with peculiar beliefs, but they have not been known to cause harm so far as I am aware.

"This situation must be dealt with promptly and effectively. The Druids must be dealt with before they can cause harm," my father says, ever certain.

"Harm?"

"The Druids are known practitioners of magic, and therefore can not be tolerated," he continues. "They must be killed," with surprising ease. I try to hide the alarm from my voice.

"Father, is that really necessary?"

He frowns at me. "Without a doubt."


End file.
